Happy Birthday, Mom
I've been feeling a little down and stressed all day today. I was unable to
figure out why, other than my massive To Do list. That really shouldn't be
an issue though, because I took the time after my doctor's appointment to do
many of the things on it before I headed to work. Most of the other things
on it won't take long or can be done after I get home from dinner tonight.
I finally realized about five minutes ago what my problem may be.
Understanding it has yet to make me feel less anxious, but I feel better
having a probable cause. I also find it interesting the way our brain
unconsciously processes things all the time. It even happens when we're
asleep: I woke up several times this morning with my jaw clenched.
Fortunately, having such a massive To Do list will keep my mind focused on
other things for the moment. The only problem is that I need to find an
extra 45 minutes to dig out of my schedule some time in the next 12 hours.
Happy birthday, Mom. I miss and love you. I was looking back on the past
ten years the other day. I've been through quite a lot: love, happiness,
sadness, stress, grief, anger, fear, frustration, pride, excitement,
anticipation. I've met hundreds of people, all of whom have had an impact
on my life in some way or another. Most of it has been good, I have always
thought. I'm more certain of it than ever after pondering it for the past
two or three days. I'm grateful for that. I wish I could tell each and
every person exactly how much I love them or what they have meant to me- but
how can you measure that? Ever?
I think it's due to your care and protection that I've been fortunate enough
to experience so much goodness. It's definitely strength I inherited from
you that allows me to face everything and still come out (mostly) sane.
It's your wisdom and courage that has helped me to take risks, to make good,
well-thought choices. It's your rock-solid faith that gives me the hope to
work on mine.
If you were here, I'd know you as a complete, well-rounded person, and not
just "a Mom." I imagine I'd be taking you to dinner or giving you a gift
you wanted or flowers or maybe all three. I feel a bit cheated that I can't
do these things but at the same time, I came to terms with that long ago.
As it stands, what I'd really like to give you today is a reason to be proud
of me and know that I'm doing what I'm meant to do with my life. I can't
guarantee that's true, but I'd like to think so.
Even if it's not, when I ask you about it later, you tell me I'm right,
okay? Thanks.
Nette away.
figure out why, other than my massive To Do list. That really shouldn't be
an issue though, because I took the time after my doctor's appointment to do
many of the things on it before I headed to work. Most of the other things
on it won't take long or can be done after I get home from dinner tonight.
I finally realized about five minutes ago what my problem may be.
Understanding it has yet to make me feel less anxious, but I feel better
having a probable cause. I also find it interesting the way our brain
unconsciously processes things all the time. It even happens when we're
asleep: I woke up several times this morning with my jaw clenched.
Fortunately, having such a massive To Do list will keep my mind focused on
other things for the moment. The only problem is that I need to find an
extra 45 minutes to dig out of my schedule some time in the next 12 hours.
Happy birthday, Mom. I miss and love you. I was looking back on the past
ten years the other day. I've been through quite a lot: love, happiness,
sadness, stress, grief, anger, fear, frustration, pride, excitement,
anticipation. I've met hundreds of people, all of whom have had an impact
on my life in some way or another. Most of it has been good, I have always
thought. I'm more certain of it than ever after pondering it for the past
two or three days. I'm grateful for that. I wish I could tell each and
every person exactly how much I love them or what they have meant to me- but
how can you measure that? Ever?
I think it's due to your care and protection that I've been fortunate enough
to experience so much goodness. It's definitely strength I inherited from
you that allows me to face everything and still come out (mostly) sane.
It's your wisdom and courage that has helped me to take risks, to make good,
well-thought choices. It's your rock-solid faith that gives me the hope to
work on mine.
If you were here, I'd know you as a complete, well-rounded person, and not
just "a Mom." I imagine I'd be taking you to dinner or giving you a gift
you wanted or flowers or maybe all three. I feel a bit cheated that I can't
do these things but at the same time, I came to terms with that long ago.
As it stands, what I'd really like to give you today is a reason to be proud
of me and know that I'm doing what I'm meant to do with my life. I can't
guarantee that's true, but I'd like to think so.
Even if it's not, when I ask you about it later, you tell me I'm right,
okay? Thanks.
Nette away.